


Better Than Dogs

by themantlingdark



Series: Better Than Dogs [1]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-13 20:50:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16899633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themantlingdark/pseuds/themantlingdark
Summary: Thor and Loki meet at a grocery store. They fall hard and fast.





	Better Than Dogs

 

“I know you don’t work here, but could you tell me where the peanut butter is?”

Thor looked up from where he was crouching, toad-like, in front of the rice, reaching to the back of the lowest bin where the long grain brown was hiding.

“Yeah, it’s with the breakfast cereal for some reason,” Thor replied, smiling at the thin, pale face that was smiling back at him so politely despite being visibly tired. And a little too thin, by Thor’s eyeballing; the bones of the face were showing plainly. Shadows in all the hollows. Low lids. Slow blinking. Such big eyes. Enormous green irises. Thor wondered if the man’s eyes were of above average size or if they only seemed large because the face surrounding them was so lean.

“Ah,” the stranger nodded, setting the curls that hung by his jaw swaying. “I never would have guessed. Which way?”

“Toward the front of the store, before you get to the potato chips and coffee, in the aisle with all the candy... which is probably more appropriate than the store knows.”

“Pure sugar.”

“Exactly.”

“Is there any more of that rice?” the man asked, dipping his head at the sack in Thor’s hand.

“Yeah, hidden at the back. Can I grab one for you?”

“Two, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“My pleasure,” Thor said, then fished them out, handed them over, and watched the handsome stranger disappear around the corner.

 

Some pleasant, nameless scent hovered around Thor’s face for a moment and he remained crouched, staring ahead unseeing, breathing it in before it was wafted up toward the cavernous supermarket ceiling and lost, shredded by industrial fans and scattered by vents. Old Spice deodorant was in there, but there was something else too. Woody and sweet without being floral. Soft and inviting. Thor sighed when the air went blank and slowly rose to his feet. The sleeves of the man’s jacket had been worn through on the insides of his wrists, though the garment didn’t look old. Unavoidable under the circumstances, Thor suspected, but autumn had only just begun. Thor wondered if the man wore the jacket often because he was always cold. Perhaps it was last year’s coat and he didn’t care to replace it knowing the next one would wear out just as easily. If it was this season’s coat, then he wore through them quite quickly. That would get expensive. Thor worried that he couldn’t afford a new one.

 

When Thor had finally checked everything off his shopping list he headed to the front of the store to wait in line. He wished he hadn’t bought so much. If he’d had twelve items, he could have used the self checkout, which was what the pretty stranger with the long black curls was doing. The customer ahead of Thor was a regular and was having a friendly conversation with the cashier. Ordinarily Thor loved that. Most people treated cashiers like machines--or worse. But tonight Thor wished for crisp efficiency that would put him out the door in time to say hello again and then goodnight to--to whom, Thor wasn’t sure. Frustrating not to know something that had suddenly become so vital. Equally frustrating not to know why it seemed so urgent. Fine manners and an even finer face. Surely any number of people could and did fit that bill. Why this one was more important was a mystery. Thor put on his best impression of cheerful patience when he got to the register. He kept his small talk short and sweet in case the people behind him in line were in the same hopeless sort of hurry he’d been in three minutes earlier. It reminded him of high school, when he’d planned his routes through the halls between classes so that he’d cross paths with all the people he liked to see. If they had seen him and smiled and he had smiled and winked, then it had been a good day. That sort of navigation had ended by the time Thor got to college. He’d stayed in his own head when he was in those halls, thinking about what he’d just read or heard. Now he’d forgotten those easy days so completely he hadn’t even thought to miss them. Whole decades were more or less lost, called up periodically by a photograph or a phone call if he was lucky, but most often invisible and unremembered.

 

The parking lot wasn’t overly busy, but it was overwhelming nonetheless. The sun had gone down and everything was backlit, turning the view into a sea of indigo silhouettes that seemed to hum as the lamps buzzed to life overhead. The crunch of grit against asphalt under tires and the growls of engines in need of mufflers drowned out softer sounds. Thor craned his neck and went up on the tips of his toes to see past cars and buggies, but, for his purposes, the place was empty.

 

On the drive home he wondered if the man always bought so little. If so, then it meant he’d be back at the store more often. Perhaps his preferred time was in the early evenings. Thor always went then. Having dinner in his belly made the trip less frustrating and made him less inclined to buy food he didn’t really need. It was almost eight o’clock now. The stranger had probably started shopping some time after seven. He’d had two bananas in his basket, which was a good policy, since there was only a two day span when bananas actually tasted good. After that they were mealy and dry and best turned into bread. The ones the man had picked out looked perfect. Still faintly green at the ends, yellow through the body, but no brown speckles anywhere. One banana for tomorrow, which was Saturday, and one for Sunday. If the man wanted to have more of the fruit on Monday, he’d likely be back at the store on Sunday night to buy it.  

 

Barring the occasional swap or sick day, Thor was on call every fifth weekend and every Thursday night. He was grateful to be in a hospital with enough staff to spread the shifts out so widely. He was off this weekend, but got stuck in traffic behind a fender bender on his way back from an errand. He made it through by a quarter past seven, skipped dinner, and went straight to the grocery store, eating fistfuls of almonds in his car on the way and checking his teeth for their papery skins in the rearview mirror once he’d arrived. He grabbed a handbasket this time, not wanting to be stuck in the wrong line again, and walked slowly through the produce at the front of the store, memorizing the placements of the vegetables and fruits, intending to have a precise answer in case someone in particular asked him where the pomegranates were.

 

Thor was peering in the clear plastic windows on bags of pears when a welcome voice asked, “Big decision?”

“My life depends on it,” Thor nodded, tamping down a grin. “Got a bag last time I was here and they were so good they’re already gone. Way better than the big ones in the bins. Plus I learned the hard way last year, they only have these for a few weeks in the fall.”

“I don’t think I could finish them fast enough,” the man sighed, shaking his head. “I’m eating for half these days.” He patted his thighs.

“Catch me on the way out and take a couple home. They keep pretty well in the fridge.”

“Might take you up on that.”

“Please do. I’m Thor, by the way,” Thor said.

“Loki,” the man answered, taking off his glove and giving Thor’s offered hand a firm shake. His fingers were cold. Thor wanted to hang onto them until the stubborn warmth of his own skin had seeped in all the way to the bones.

“Nice to officially meet you,” Thor smiled.

“Likewise.”

“So, are you new to the area then?”

“No, just new to this store,” Loki answered. “Used to go to Whole Foods, but the prices are high, the shelves are high, the aisles are narrow, and it’s a madhouse from October to December thirty-first. This is a better fit, even though it’s further away.”

Thor nodded and glanced at Loki’s basket. He was pleased to find three bananas inside, and he planned to come to the store again on Wednesday night, when, if his theory was correct, Loki would return to buy more.

“I don’t mean to pry, but your surname wouldn’t be Strand, by any chance, would it?” Thor said.

“How the hell did you know that?” Loki asked, narrowing his eyes, but smiling on the left side of his lips with something like approval.

“Loki’s a rare enough name. Strand is the only one I’ve heard of. My father collects your photographs.”

“Ah,” Loki nodded. “Then you must be Odin’s son. Holmen, isn’t it?”

“That is his last name,” Thor nodded. “But my mother hadn’t married him yet when I came along and I got hers, so it’s Solheim.”

“That’s better.”

“I think so. So does my dad, come to think of it.”

“He should have taken hers too. Still could.”

“True. Business, I guess,” Thor shrugged, and Loki nodded and turned toward the main aisle that ran between the wall of dairy and the rows of aisles of dry goods.

Thor wanted to ask about photography in the hope that Loki would linger, but he was afraid to eat up time that hadn’t been offered.

“I can see I’m in trouble already,” Loki called, stopping and looking back over his shoulder. Thor felt caught and his cheeks went hot. “May I borrow your reach?”

“Oh, of course,” Thor smiled, nodding rapidly and hoping it blurred his blushing.

“Sorry. You probably get this every time you go to a grocery store,” Loki said, looking sidelong up at Thor while Thor looked back at him straight on, his head turned all the way to his right. He was admiring Loki’s profile and ignoring a strong urge to thrust his fingers into thick, black curls until his palm was cradling the base of Loki’s skull.

“I do,” Thor confirmed. “But I don’t mind. I just wish the stores would be realistic. If they’re going to put this much of their stock six feet or more off the floor, then they should hang shepherd’s hooks from every shelf so people can reach the stuff.”

“Exactly,” Loki agreed. “Or station gangly teens at the ends of every aisle.”

“That would be adorable,” Thor laughed.

“All tired and sullen, scrolling through Instagram all day. Rolling their eyes whenever anyone wants anything.”

“I love it.”

 

The remaining tubs of nonfat greek yogurt were at the back of the fridge, so Loki had Thor grab him one of those. After that, he asked if Thor wouldn’t mind joining him for the rest of his trip. Thor said it would be his pleasure, and kept to himself that life felt a lot like Christmas morning, though he couldn’t stop smiling, so he wasn’t certain his secret was entirely safe, nor was he certain that it needed to be.

 

The eggs and bread Loki liked were up too high for him. If Thor hadn’t been there, Loki would have had to wait for someone else to come down the aisle and ask them to get it for him, or else go without. Most of the frozen fruits and veggies were out of reach up in the coolers. The cranberry juice was so far back on the shelf Loki couldn’t get to it.

 

Loki watched Thor’s back and shoulders as they reached and flexed, slightly hidden by a light jacket. Loki thought it was a shame their paths hadn’t crossed sooner. A month or so ago, at the height of summer, so that Thor would have been dressed in just the button up that was peeking up over his collar. The cotton would have been wilted from the heat and humidity, clinging to Thor and perhaps going see-through if the the light behind it was just right.  

 

Loki enjoyed Thor’s habitual examination of each item he picked up, making sure the package was uncrushed and intact before placing it in Loki’s basket. He was pleased to be fussed over, but dismayed to see that there were no items left on his shopping list and there was no space left in his basket. His time with Thor was likely running out.

 

They waited in line side by side but it was only seconds before a self checkout opened up and Loki left to pay. Thor hurried through his own purchase, relieved he hadn’t picked up more than pears, pistachios, and asiago. He managed to get done just as Loki was heading out the door, and with a brisk bit of walking, he caught up.

“Did you want any pears?” Thor asked.

“Ooo, that’s right. You’re sure you don’t mind?”

“Of course. Please, they’re wonderful. It’s a shame they don’t sell these on their own. Here,” Thor said, opening the sack and picking through the fruit. “Eat this yellow one today or tomorrow, or else put it in the fridge when you get home because it’s ready, and let the greener one ripen on the counter until it turns this color.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Nice to meet you again, Loki.”

“Pleasure’s mine,” Loki said. “See you around.”

 

Sleep was slow to come to Thor, as it had been ever since he set eyes on Loki on Friday. He wondered what to say. Whether Loki looked forward to seeing him or was simply being polite. Whether planning his trips to coincide with Loki’s shopping was crossing a line into some stalker-ish territory, or if it was within the realm of the acceptable with regard to pursuing- Thor’s mind tripped over the word and fell flat on its face.

 

Pursuing. Pursuing what? Whom, really. Loki. Obviously. But for what purpose? So far, Thor had contemplated coffee. But it was the sort of coffee he’d be disappointed to learn Loki was having with anybody else. In Thor’s book, a conversation with the object of his affection from the opposite side of a small table was the limit for the rest of the world. Thor himself wanted to sit side by side, so close their elbows and knuckles brushed together. Hoped to swipe whipped cream from Loki’s upper lip with the pad of his right ring finger. Such a strange mouth. Loki’s lips seemed thin and full at the same time. He had a faint overbite that pushed his upper lip forward in a way that made him look a bit French. And a bit forlorn. And a bit like he was about to pucker up for a kiss. And there was something else in it. Some tension that often warped it into a line. Perhaps an attempt to hold back some expression. Perhaps pain. Or a stalemate between a grin and a grimace. And there was something familiar in that upper lip as well. Thor saw the faintest resemblance to his own mouth. They weren’t identical by any stretch… more fraternal. Similar in shape, color, and texture.

 

Coffee, Thor reminded himself as his eyelids dipped, dimming the moon that was slowly swimming across his window. Ask him if he’d like to go out for coffee. Ask him about photography. Ask him for his number.

 

Wednesday afternoon brought a baby who wouldn’t budge. Failure to descend. Thor was good at Cesarean sections. He disliked the circumstances that often demanded them, but he loved performing them. Things were more in his control during surgery. And they could happen quickly. He could have the baby out in two minutes if it was an emergency. Ten if there was no need to hurry. And his new patient was spared the slow wringer of the birth canal, which Thor took as consolation for the nasty incision he had to inflict on an otherwise healthy belly.

 

Thor didn’t get out of work until well after nine. He swung by the grocery store anyway and walked the aisles at a brisk pace, blatantly looking for Loki. When there was no sign of him, Thor bought a candy bar and ate it in the car as he drove home, hoping the chocolate would distract him from the sting in his eyes and the tightness in his throat and the fear that some alignment had been upset and he’d never get back into Loki’s orbit.

 

In bed that night Thor watched the waning moon drift by again, dimmer now, both because less of it was lit and because it was veiled by a thin layer of clouds. Sometimes bands of heavier clouds swept past, looking like long fingers trying and failing to catch a pearl. Thor wondered where the moonlight would catch on Loki’s skin and pictured himself drawing the lit edges of Loki’s features with his fingertip. It would be cool skin, if Loki’s hands were anything to go by. Thor ran his finger along the edge of his own jaw and felt foolish, not for doing it, but for being surprised. He would not find the downy, powdery cushion of a woman’s cheek on Loki’s face. It would be that taut, glossy, slightly oily texture he knew from his own features. With stubble catching in the grooves of his fingerprints, scratching and dragging pleasantly with every touch.

 

Thor rolled onto his side and stared at the empty expanse of bed in front of him. Plenty of room, even for someone as tall as Loki was. And it was warm. The house was warm. The blankets were warm. And Thor was always warm. His girlfriends had hated it and had complained that they woke in the middle of the night soaked in sweat from lying next to him. Even when Thor had turned the heat down or the AC up and pushed all the blankets to the foot of the bed, it had made no difference. It was him. Radiating it. Loki’s fingers couldn’t stay cold if Thor got his hands on them. He wondered if Loki’s circulation was all right. If he got enough exercise and ate well. If he was just one of those people who were always cold. Thor thought of the fireplace in his living room and made a mental note to check the damper and flue and restock the rack with firewood.

 

Thor managed to be at the grocery store just after seven on Friday night, which was his usual day and time. He’d skipped dinner and come straight from work after a long delivery. When he was tired and hungry, his brain always went straight to bread. The bakery in the front of the store had over two dozen different loaves, and at least as many rolls. He was leaning toward a loaf of challah, the leftovers of which would make excellent French toast, when he saw Loki’s face reflected in the glass doors of the bread cabinets.

“Another wild Friday night, eh?” Loki asked.

“Yeah. We should probably start taking it easy so we don’t burn ourselves out.”

“It’s a real danger,” Loki nodded.

“I know. But the rush.”

“It’s addictive.”

“Should we start wearing rubber masks of dead presidents?” Thor asked.

“Chasing each other through the store, shooting nerf guns at the sky and screaming,” Loki laughed. “I love _Point Break_.”

“Fuck that remake though.”

“Oh god, yeah,” Loki groaned. “That was garbage.”

“And not even the good kind of garbage like _Hercules_ ,” Thor griped.

“God bless Dwayne Johnson’s thighs.”

“Forever and ever amen. And anything that has Ian McShane in it.”

“I know, I love him,” Loki moaned. _“John Wick_.”

“Ho. Leee. Shit. Those movies. I need to rewatch the sequel.”

“Same. Divine. There should be a law that only stunt performers can direct action films.”

“Seriously,” Thor agreed. “God, now I can’t stop thinking about Lance Reddick.”

“Yessss,” Loki hissed. “Loved him since _The Wire_.”

“Same,” Thor said. He saw his own expression mirrored on Loki’s features. The cheeks tight and raised. The eyes shining. Teeth peeking out from between rosy lips. He gave a little shrug. “Grocery shopping is kind of a necessary evil. If it has to take up my time, I figure it can take up as little of it as possible. Friday nights are fastest for me.”

“That’s how I feel about it too,” Loki said. “Everyone else is out having fun on Friday nights, so it’s a ghost town in here, but everything’s in stock because the store is getting ready for the weekend.”

“Exactly. And no one’s blocking the aisle with their shopping cart. The shrieking toddlers are all home in bed. No long lines.”

“I think this means we’re geezers,” Loki winced.

“Definitely,” Thor agreed.

“I really didn’t expect it to happen until I was in my fifties at least.”

“Yeah, I was not prepared to be an old man in my thirties,” Thor said.

“Speak for yourself--I’m still in my twenties.”

“That just means you’re more mature, though, right?”

“Oh, good call. Yes, I have a genius for curmudgeonry.”

“Own it.”

They laughed at themselves and Thor felt his cheeks go hot when Loki met his eye and held his gaze. It started them both grinning again.

“I shudder to think what’s next, though,” Thor sighed.

“You mean, if we already want everyone to get off our lawn…”

“And the whole world is our lawn,” Thor nodded.

“Shit,” Loki grimaced, eyes still smiling. “Yeah, I mean, where can we go from here?”

“Space,” Thor deadpanned instantly, and Loki started laughing again.

“Oh, thank god, you’ve got a plan.”

“Always.”

“Excellent,” Loki approved.

Thor stood smiling at him a moment, then quietly took a deep breath.

“Do you have plans tomorrow?” Thor asked. His heart was beating so hard he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to hear the answer.

“Nothing I wouldn’t be happy to blow off,” Loki said, cocking his head and raising an eyebrow at Thor, inviting more words with a smile.

“Can I take you out for coffee?”

“Coffee is, ah… sort of medicinal for me,” Loki winced apologetically.

“Yeah, it’ll clean your pipes quick, whether you like it or not,” Thor nodded, and Loki’s face went wide as he laughed.

“Most people don’t put that together.”

“Or say it out loud,” Thor finished, hanging his head and laughing at himself. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m glad I didn’t have to explain it.”

“What about hot cocoa and biscotti?”

“Perfect.”

They settled on ten am and swapped phone numbers in case they had to reschedule or warn that they’d be running late.

“May I join you and take advantage of your height again tonight?” Loki asked, as they left the bakery and moved on to the produce.

“Yes, please,” Thor said. “I need you to supervise me.”

“Really? Why’s that?”

“I haven’t had dinner yet, so I’m gonna put a lot of stupid shit in my shopping cart. You have to veto it and tell me I should know better.”

 

Loki rejected Nutty Bars, Milano cookies, Teddy Grahams, and Doritos--but not Fritos, because, Loki noted, “They have, like, three ingredients. Live a little. Jesus.” Thor was pleased to have something salty with crunch--and pleased that Loki was already indulging him. Cheez-Its were returned to the shelf with, “They’ll get stuck in your teeth and leave you salt-stung and unsatisfied, because what you really want when you get a box of Cheez-Its is a bag of cheddar Goldfish crackers. But you already got your Fritos, so you’ll have to wait on those until next week.”

“You’re underestimating how quickly I can eat a bag of Fritos.”

 

When Thor threw peanut M&Ms into the basket Loki sighed and stared at them.

“Those,” Loki said slowly, thinking for a moment, “I’m going to leave in there until you’ve bought them... and then I’m going to take them away once we’re out of the store.”

“If you think I’m above brawling in a parking lot over possession of a bag of candy, you’ve got another think coming.”

“Oh, but I fight dirty,” Loki warned. “All biting and scratching and pulling out hair.”

“Not my precious hair!” Thor gasped in mock horror, shielding himself with one enormous raised arm as he tossed his head to send the blond waves sailing through the air.

“All’s fair in love and war,” Loki said airily, with a casual shrug.

“Is ‘Loki plus M&Ms’ carved into a tree somewhere?”

“It probably should be.”

 

For a third time, Thor found himself disappointed to be finished with his grocery shopping. He and Loki waited in line together again, talking about their favorite edible indulgences, giving and receiving recommendations. Loki got finished first and waited for Thor so that they could go out together. In the parking lot, Thor put the M&Ms in Loki’s bag and they said their see-you-tomorrows and parted ways.

 

Putting half a dozen groceries away took Thor thirty minutes. Every time he pulled something out of a sack, his mind replayed the bits of flirty conversation he and Loki had been having when he’d put the item in his basket. Thor had a strange urge to put the Fritos in a box in the attic and save them the way one would a wedding quilt hand-stitched by a late great-grandmother.

 

Sleep came easily to Thor with the relief of knowing when he’d see Loki again and where he could reach him. Thor’s excitement woke him up early, by weekend standards, meaning he woke at his usual time. He got exercise out of the way and did laundry while he let his hair air dry in a few thick french braids.

 

Thor arrived at the café a little before ten and found Loki already there, reserving the sofa in front of the fireplace for them.

“Been waiting long?” Thor asked.

“No, just got here. Figured I’d snag the good seats.”

“Perfect. Thanks. What can I get for you?”

“Um… a small hot chocolate with a mountain of whipped cream aaaand,” Loki craned his neck to look at the big glass jars on the counter, “a pistachio cranberry biscotti… actually, two of them, who am I kidding.”

“Excellent,” Thor said. “Back in a sec.”

 

Thor already knew what he wanted to drink, so he had a moment in line to think about the barely-resisted urge he’d had to lean over and kiss Loki a temporary goodbye on the cheek when he’d left to place their order. He used to lean over in the car to kiss his mother when she dropped him off at school when he was small. But that was twenty-five years ago. He wondered if the habit had somehow resurfaced now, and if so, if it was some auspicious sign. Or was it new--and still auspicious? Had some shadowed path in his mind put something together in the dark? Tallied up pheromones and body language and vocab and vocalizations and come to the conclusion that Loki was a fit on par with his mother?

 

He felt at ease when he sat back down. George Winston’s _Autumn_ was playing quietly on the shop's stereo, a favorite in Thor’s household, familiar to him from before he could speak. Loki had taken the left side of the couch and was arranging his legs so that his toes were as close to the fireplace as possible. The wind was stripping the trees outside the windows, scattering leaves the colors of sunset across the sidewalks and the streets.

“Thanks,” Loki smiled, taking his drink and nipping at the ruffled peak of whipped cream that was towering above the rim of the cup. It looked like he was kissing it. Thor watched with his own lips slightly parted, half imagining the familiar taste and texture, half wishing he could trade places with the cream.

“How was your week?” Thor asked, when Loki came up for air.

“Um,” Loki said, smiling and going pink. “It was… good. For a change.”

“Well, I’m glad it was good. I hope the change sticks.”

Loki reddened further and finished his whipped cream before starting in on the cocoa proper, dunking his biscotti and nibbling off the soaked bits.

“Did you curl your hair?” Loki asked, and it was Thor’s turn to blush.

“Sort of.”

“How do you ‘sort of’ curl your hair?” Loki asked, nudging Thor’s side.

“I put it in French braids after I got out of the shower and then let it dry like that.”

Loki made a quiet _ah_ and nodded, then reached over to arrange a blond wave that was blocking too much of the left side of Thor’s face, tucking it behind Thor’s ear and giving an affectionate pinch to the lobe before letting go and sagging against Thor’s side.

“More cream?” Thor asked, offering his own drink when he saw Loki looking at it.

“Oooo, you share dairy on the first date?”

“I’ve already given you pears. I was supposed to be saving that for my wedding night.”

Loki snorted and took the offered cup and Thor got to watch him kiss and nip at the fluffy white peaks again while they sat in comfortable silence, lazy and warm, so relaxed they were nearly asleep.

 

When their drinks were finished they were more talkative, though they kept their voices to a murmur, enjoying the way it necessitated minimal distance while maximizing privacy, wallowing in the breathy softness it required of their voices. They stared at freckles and counted eyelashes that had fallen onto cheeks. Watched each other’s lips as they spoke. Leaned closer and closer until Thor had his arm around Loki’s shoulders and his cheek was resting on the top of Loki’s head. They stayed there, staring at the fire and cautiously petting each other with their fingertips until a quiet alarm went off on Loki’s phone and he excused himself for a few minutes, then slid back onto the sofa beside Thor.

 

When they asked about weekend plans, they were each careful to leave their time open, committing only to a desire to relax and enjoy themselves.

“You look pretty fit,” Loki said, narrowing his eyes at Thor and pinching his lips together a bit, trying not to laugh at the grin his observation had put on Thor’s face. “I imagine you can lift heavy things, run for miles without getting tired, all that stuff.”

“I can and do,” Thor confirmed, nodding and going a bit wide eyed, uncertain where this thread was leading.

“I saw you parking in that space right out front,” Loki said. “Did you get the state recreation passport when you renewed your plates?”

“I did.”

“The weather tomorrow is supposed to be perfect…”

“It is,” Thor agreed. “Is there a state park you’re craving?”

“Ash Lake,” Loki answered instantly. His eyebrows ticked up in the centers as he said it. He looked wistful from the nose up and cautiously hopeful below, with his lower lip caught between his teeth.

“Should we picnic?”

“Yes… but I also want to take pictures.”

“Oh, good call. I think the leaves are peaking. Did you have a preference for what time?”

“I was hoping we could make a day of it. Catch different light. But I don’t want to eat up your whole weekend.”

“Pff, please,” Thor said, shaking his head in a light scold. “You’d be spoiling me.”

“I’ll remind you you said that when you’re busting your ass on those hills tomorrow.”

 

Loki confessed he had a few things to get done if he was going to be prepared to take pictures for all of Sunday, so they said goodbye and went their separate ways to get ready.

 

When Loki got back from their date, he rushed through his apartment, straightening up and organizing equipment. He kept remembering Thor’s eyes on his lips and all he’d seen of Thor’s lips while he’d been doing some staring of his own. A bout of self-doubt and paranoia sent him to the mirror to make sure he didn’t have a brown ring around his mouth from his hot chocolate. But there was nothing. Thor had been looking at his bare lips. Constantly. Loki felt a thrill shoot through his core.

 

From the grocery store, Thor sent texts asking about Loki’s preferences for picnic foods and drinks. He picked out the approved items between flurries of messages. When he got home, he put a few handwarmers in his glove box and put a stack of pillows and blankets in the back seat. He hoped they wouldn’t be hiking and taking pictures the whole time. Hoped they’d be putting the pillows and blankets to good use and spending a good chunk of the day in something like the cuddle they’d been having on the couch at the coffee shop. But preferably with kisses. That urge had moved from a peck on Loki’s forehead or cheek to something soft and lingering on his lips. At some point while he was watching Loki eat whipped cream, Thor had fully rounded that corner. He wondered if tomorrow was too soon for a marathon makeout in a state park. He’d felt so comfortable with Loki that day it didn’t seem unreasonable from his end. And Loki had seemed at ease too. And eager to see him again. The thought sent some warm, welcome thing curling around the insides of Thor’s ribs, heating his blood and sending it up to redden his cheeks. He wondered how and why some people just slotted into your life like a missing piece while others glanced off or shattered. His parents had been together for thirty-three years now. They were night and day, and always so affectionate with each other it had made Thor’s friends blush whenever they had come over to his house all through high school. He wondered what his mother and father would think of Loki--and what he would think of them--and when they’d get to meet. The holidays were coming. Thor wanted Loki there for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Wanted to take him home--here, to his own house--at the ends of those days.

 

He dialed his mother and stared out the window at the yellow leaves that were cartwheeling across his lawn.

“Hello, sweetheart, how are you?”

“Hi Mom. I’m okay. You?”

“Being lazy. Not complaining.”

“Sounds good. Got a minute?”

“Sure. What’s up?”

“I just... went out with this guy I met at the grocery store. I don’t want to jinx it or anything, but I think I’m gonna marry him.”

“Really? That’s sudden. Even for you. Must have been quite a date.”

“It was.”

“Let me guess… big green eyes.”

“Goddammit, Mom, how the fu- _Yes_. Lucky guess.”

“Oh, Thor, you’re something else,” Frigga scolded, laughing. He could picture her pursed lips and widening eyes. Flashing a glare at him officially, but not entirely disapproving.

“I didn’t ask him out because he has big green eyes. They are awfully nice, though. God, he’s so gorgeous it’s almost obnoxious. You’ll see for yourself.”

“Right. At the wedding.”

“No, you’ll see him before the wedding. But I haven’t proposed to him yet, so don’t spoil the surprise.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I am calling it, though,” Thor said softly.

“Calling _what_?”

“That I’m going to marry him.”

“You really are something else.”

“So I’ve heard. You’ll remember though, right?”

“That you’re a melodramatic sucker for big green eyes? Yes.”

“No, I know you’ll never let me live that down. You have to promise you’ll remember that I called it: I met the person I’m going to marry.”

“Oh, _that_. Yes, I promise.”

“Okay, good. Should I call Dad on his cell, or do you want to pass him yours, or have you had me on speaker this whole time?”

“Call him on his cell, I’m looking at recipes on mine.”

“Will do. You know, he’s actually going to take this seriously.”

“Well, a psychic awakening and an impending marriage are serious business.”

“No, not that. He’ll get a kick out of the part where I’m dating one of his favorite photographers.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

“I’ll get the details from him so you won’t have to tell your story twice.”

“And you won’t have to listen to it twice,” he teased.

“That too.”

“All right, I’ll let you go. Love you.”

“Love you too. Bye, sweetheart.”

“Bye, Mom.”

 

“Your mother’s staring at me,” Odin whispered, a few seconds later when he answered Thor’s call. “Am I in trouble?”

“No, she’s just waiting for news.”

“Oh good. What’s the news?”

“I told her I’m dating one of your favorite photographers. She doesn’t know which one.”

“Ah. Well… then you’re either having an affair with Sally Mann and probably spending a lot of time in Virginia… or you’re seeing Loki Strand.”

“The latter,” Thor laughed. “But now I’m a little tempted to try for the former too.”

“How old is he?” Odin asked, his voice low and conspiratorial, a flicker of excitement it.

“I didn’t ask the exact number, but I know he’s in his twenties. Wouldn’t put him past twenty-seven. Probably more like twenty-four-ish.”

“I’ll be damned,” Odin murmured. “Always pictured someone my age.”

“Old soul, maybe,” Thor offered.

“Been seeing him long?”

“First date was today. Going out again tomorrow.”

“Well, that’s promising. Don’t fuck it up. Bring him over for brunch or dinner some time.”

“I hope to,” Thor told him, and they said goodbye.

  
  
  


The morning was as perfect as had been predicted. Warm and cloudless. Thor could see the few stars that outshone the city’s lights. The earthy scent of fallen leaves hung at the edges of the air and the birds were at ease, singing in the trees, clear and unhurried, awaiting the sun and the hunt for their breakfast. Thor got to Loki’s apartment a few minutes past seven and parked as close to the building as he could, but, being so early on a Sunday, most people were still in bed, and their cars were in all the good spots. Loki buzzed Thor in when he rang the bell, but when Thor got inside he wasn’t certain which way to go. There was no elevator in the entry. Perhaps it was in the back. He peered down the hall to see if, for some reason, apartment 202 was on the first floor, but the units were all in the 100s so he took the stairs and found number 202 at the top, the first on his left. He heard a muffled but cheerful call of “coming” when he knocked and then Loki opened the door and ushered him in.

 

The kitchen table was covered in padded black bags full of photography equipment.

“I’m completely taking advantage of you,” Loki confessed, with a blush and drop of his eyes above an unapologetic grin.

“That sounds very promising,” Thor winked.

“Don’t encourage me.”

 

Thor loaded himself up with cameras, lenses, tripods, and an umbrella while Loki put on his coat--the same one Thor had already seen, worn thin on the inner arms--and gloves. When they were ready to go, Loki pulled up to a thick yoga mat that was lying on the floor next to the door, locked his wheels, and swung down onto the pad.

 

Thor opened the door and Loki went through it, walking backward with his hands, letting his legs drag. He scooted to the top of the stairs, turned, set his feet on the second step, and lowered his butt onto the first. He repeated the process in a quick rhythm until he was at the bottom, then backed around the corner and leaned back to get his keys out of his pocket. He opened the small, triangular closet that was under the staircase and pulled out the chair he’d been using every other time Thor had seen him. It was more streamlined than the one Loki had upstairs and its wheels were set at angles, wider at the bottom and narrower at the top, making it more stable. Loki sat on the floor in front of his chair, perpendicular to it, locked its wheels, put his left hand on the seat, held his knees to his chest with his chin, and, with the knuckles of his right fist braced on the ground beside him, pivoted up into the seat with one quick heave.

“Will my chair fit in the trunk without having to come apart?” Loki asked.

“Yeah, the ceiling is high enough. Want your cameras on the back seat?”

“Floor would be better. That way there’s nowhere for them to fall.”

 

With the gap between the curb and the car, Loki couldn’t get close enough to transfer into the passenger seat. Once Thor had all the equipment stowed he apologized for his lousy parking job and asked Loki how he felt about being picked up.

“I’m fine with it. It’s just that most people can’t safely manage it.”

“I can manage it,” Thor said, and Loki cleared his throat.

“I had a feeling.”

“Do you want to put your arms around my neck?” Thor asked, dropping into a squat in front of Loki.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Loki murmured, leaning forward and moving Thor’s hair so it wouldn’t get pulled.

“Can I grab you under the legs?” Thor asked.

“Yeah, I think that’ll be best.”

“Any injuries or pressure ulcers I need to look out for?” Thor asked. “Sorry to pry.”

“No, I’m good,” Loki said, and Thor scooped him up, spun, and set him gently in the seat. “Been researching me?” Loki asked, when Thor slid into the car beside him.

“No, I’ve been resisting the urge to go full creepy stalker so far. Why, do you have a website I should check out?”

“No. I mean, _yes_ , I have a website. But no, I meant researching spinal cord injuries.”

 _“Oh_. No, I went to med school.”

Thor could feel Loki’s gaze on the side of his face as he drove.

“Did you _finish_ med school?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you practice?”

“I do.”

“Are you telling me you’re a hot doctor?”

Thor huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes.

“No, really,” Loki said.

“OB-GYN at Guardian Hospital.”

“Holy shit. I need to go buy a lottery ticket.”

 

When they got to the park, everything was still perfect. The sun had come up and was peeking through the trunks of the trees, painting everything orange, revealing the small silhouettes of birds. And there was only one other car in the lot, so they had the park more or less to themselves.

“Ready to regret every decision that led you here?” Loki asked, after Thor cut the engine.

Thor gave him the sarcastic stink-eye and a disapproving shake of his head, popped the trunk, and went to get his chair.

 

The roads through the park were asphalt, but the trails were a mix of packed dirt and, in areas that needed better drainage, mulch, neither of which provided good traction for Loki’s tires. And none of the trails were without an incline. Even the loop around the lake moved up and down steeply, all the terrain having been carved into the landscape millennia ago by glaciers. Loki’s arms were incredibly fit, but with the loose trail surfaces and endless slopes, there was no possibility of building enough momentum to get up the peaks and out of the valleys on his own. Thor wondered how long it had been since Loki had last seen this place.

 

After a couple hours spent pushing Loki up hills and braking him on descents, Thor could feel the telltale warmth in his muscles that meant aches were in the mail. But he was far from spent and Loki was still beaming. Taking hundreds of photos. Possibly thousands. So many Thor didn’t envy him the task of editing them. And occasionally Loki would want to get off the trail and go up into the grass or between the trees to get a better view, and Thor would get to carry him, and Loki would fuss with Thor’s hair, making sure the strands didn’t blow in front of his lens. Sometimes Thor would turn his face into Loki’s neck and keep it there, breathing him in and feeling the warmth of his skin against the tip of his nose, and Loki would hum or tell him that he was distracting. Not a complaint, merely an observation. And Thor would say thank you and catch Loki’s smile out of the corner of his eye.

 

At ten, a quiet alarm went off on Loki’s phone and he cursed softly.

“Time for a break?” Thor asked.

“I need a bathroom.”

“Moi aussi. We’ll hit the closest outhouse in another half-mile.”

“Shit. Is the rest of the trail as hilly as it has been?”

“Pretty much.”

“I don’t think I can make it that far. Especially with all the bouncing.”

The path they were on was cut into a hillside, so there was no good place for Loki to pull off for some privacy. He aimed his chair uphill and Thor played lookout.

“Well, at least mosquito season is over,” Loki sighed, leaning forward to reach the bag under his seat that held his supplies.

“There’s an old man with ski poles coming around the curve on our right,” Thor warned, after a few minutes. “He’s moving pretty quickly, but you’ve got a little time.”

“I’d rather not stop right now. Does he look like he’ll give a shit?”

“Not really. Fitness buff, I think. Seems to be on a mission. But I’d be happy to push him down the hill if he’s an asshole about it.”

Loki snorted.

“Want to put my jacket over your lap?” Thor asked.

“You don’t mind?”

“No, here,” Thor said, and wiggled his coat out from under all the camera bags. “Want me to hold it up like a tent?”

“That would be lovely,” Loki said, blinking rapidly. Thor was uncertain whether the wetness gathering in Loki’s eyes was amusement, relief, embarrassment, or defeat.

“Good morning,” Thor said, the words loud, clear, and cheerful, nodding politely at the old man who was rushing past in a flurry of limbs and scattered gravel.

Thor got a panted “hello” in reply.

“On a mission,” Thor confirmed quietly, resuming his lookout.

“You’re something else,” Loki said, pursing his lips to pinch back a grin and gently shaking his head from side to side.

“You sound like my mother.”

“Then I guess I’ve already got your number.”

Thor hummed at this and his grin went dazzling and contagious. Loki succumbed to it in a matter of seconds and smiled back with all his teeth and a fond, helpless shake of his head.

 

They got down from the hills and out of the woods and went back to the car. The sky was so bright it seemed to hum, singing at a pitch so high you’d swear it had burst your eardrums and left you stranded in shimmering silence. The breeze was mild. Too soft to raise goosebumps on the skin, but just swift enough to sweep the heat of the sun from the top of your head. The angle of the light made for deep shadows, high contrast, and terrible photographs, so Loki declared it time for lunch.

 

Not far from the car they spotted an oak that still had most of its leaves and Thor set up their picnic in the shade beneath its boughs. He was pleased he’d brought so many pillows. Loki laid them out in a line and stretched out on them face down.

“Sorry,” he said, propping his chin up on his hands. “I need to give my backside a break from the pressure.”

“You’re fine,” Thor soothed, and set out paper plates with cheese and crackers and autumn fruits. Loki put his head down and closed his eyes.

 

They’d done a lot of smiling and looking. Plenty of touching. By necessity, for the most part, Thor supposed, but he was very pleased to have been allowed so much. It occurred to him that they hadn’t spoken a great deal, but it hadn’t been awkward. Merely calm, or perhaps comfortable. Something simmered under the surface of their silences, but it was not a thing of words. It felt like some frequency to which they were both tuned. Some inexplicable familiarity. Thor wondered how it would influence all of their interactions. If it would lend everything the sense of ease and availability that had characterized their time together so far.

 

Their quiet hours on the trail that morning had let them hear the voices of birds and find the speakers by following the sounds. Loki got photographs of yellow-rumped warblers and ruby-crowned kinglets. Names he hadn’t known until Thor whispered them in his ear. The most noise they’d made had been Loki’s cackle when Thor had informed him that the warbler was affectionately known to birders as “the butterbutt.”

 

Thor’s phone chimed where he’d tossed it on the blanket over their heads. Loki opened his eyes at the sound and caught a glimpse of the screen before it darkened. He saw an old red dog, gone grey around the muzzle, but with bright copper eyes, sitting on a well watered lawn. Its coat looked electric against the green.

“Who was that?” Loki asked.

“Probably my mom.”

“I meant in the photo.”

“Oh, that’s Mule.”

“You named your dog Mule?”

“Nicknamed. My dad gave her to me as a college acceptance gift and said her name was Mjolnir. That didn’t exactly roll off the tongue, so I nicknamed her Mule. Which fit. Stubborn little shit. Only learned things when they suited her.”

“That’s just smart.”

“True,” Thor laughed. “And maddening.”

“I like her,” Loki approved. “Odd gift for the occasion, though.”

“It was,” Thor agreed. “I didn’t see it then, but Dad knew what he was doing. It was kind of a trick, but who’s going to resent it--or even suspect it--when it comes in the shape of a puppy?”

“What do you mean?”

“She meant I had to live off campus. No dogs in the dorms. Had to be home to feed her and walk her. Had to remember to buy food, make appointments with the vet, trim her nails. All that stuff. Had to worry about someone else. Grow up. Kept me out of a lot of trouble. Just stayed in with Mule and my books.”

“Past tense,” Loki said gently.

“Died last year at fifteen. In her sleep, like a fucking angel. We had a good run.”

“Sorry. I’ve always wanted a dog. My landlord doesn’t allow them, though. But I’d want a fenced in yard away from busy roads anyway. I’m so paranoid about cars.”

 

They talked pets while they pecked at their lunch. Loki had grown up on a farm, so there had always been barn cats and ornery goats, but never anything that lived in the house and loved him.

“Get back there much?” Thor asked.

“Nope. Never,” Loki admitted, before a shaky exhale. “Waited until my student loans came through and I was away at school. Told my mother I was gay over the phone. She told me never to speak to her again. I haven’t.”

“Jesus,” Thor breathed. “I’m sorry.”

“I knew what I was in for,” Loki shrugged. “Being baptists was always more important to them than being decent human beings. It actually went better than I was expecting. I was bracing myself for screaming and threats and some bullshit sermon.”

“You weren’t holding out hope that that would be their wake up call and they’d snap out of it?”

“Oh, sure,” Loki nodded. “Like, on paper, I knew that that was impossible. But, yeah, some stupid part of me had fantasized, repeatedly, for about six years, that they’d change their tune when I told them.”

“But you had the sense to listen to reason and wait until you were safe before you said anything,” Thor said.

“If there is such a thing as safe,” Loki sighed. “What about you?”

“What about me?” Thor asked, reaching to brush back a few curls that had fallen down in front of Loki’s face.

“Do your parents have their priorities straight?”

“Yeah. I think my mom sort of whipped my dad into shape over the years, but they’ve always had their shit more or less together.”

“He was slow to come around after you came out?” Loki asked.

“No, that was a non-issue,” Thor said, remembering that he’d done it only yesterday, and hadn’t thought about that side of it. He’d only wanted to let his parents know that something important had happened to him. “I just mean in general. Dad had a temper when he was younger. Tended to stress himself out. He’s been better about that.”

Loki nodded. Thor looked across the thin gap between them at the tops of Loki’s eyelids and the arcs of his lashes fanned out below, hiding the fine skin under his eyes with its lavender shadows.

 

Thor felt guilty. As though he’d somehow hoarded all of life’s luck and it was his fault there hadn’t been enough left for Loki. Existence was unfair enough as it was, with illness, accidents, and natural disasters everywhere. And then people like Loki’s parents came along and did their best to make it worse. Voted to make life more difficult for as many people as possible and called themselves good Christians.

 

“How low would you like the sun to get before you start shooting again?” Thor asked.

“Very,” Loki admitted. “To the treetops at least. And I’d like to see it set. Can we stay that long?”

“Sure. Park closes at eight, but the sun will be down before then.”

“Oooh, I’ll get to shoot the golden hour,” Loki said, grinning and rolling onto his side, curling forward to reach down and rearrange his legs before straightening again and smiling across at Thor.

Lying still meant the faint autumn chill in the air was easier to feel. Thor wasn’t bothered, but couldn’t imagine Loki was warm, especially since Thor had been pushing him and he hadn’t been able to exercise his arms for much more than holding up the camera and clinging to Thor’s neck.

 

Thor laid his palm over Loki’s hand and made a quiet hum of disapproval.

“Are you checking my temperature?” Loki asked, voice high with surprise and amusement.

“Yep. My incubating instinct is strong.”

“You are very hen-like,” Loki said. “When I saw you at the grocery store I couldn’t get over your resemblance to a chicken.”

“It _is_ uncanny,” Thor agreed, and got up to get the hand warmers from the glove compartment. “Do your feet usually get cold too?”

“Yes, but I don’t have to feel it,” Loki grinned. Thor rolled his eyes and groaned and shook his head.

“May I take off your shoes?”

“How will _that_ make my feet warm?” Loki wondered.

“I’m going to stuff these in the tops of your socks,” Thor explained, shaking the hand warmers.

“Nice. I always forget those things exist. Knock yourself out.”

 

Loki wondered why he was so unbothered and unselfconscious. If it was because he knew Thor was a doctor. And an OB-GYN at that, which meant that people shat right in front of Thor’s face on a regular basis, as there was no way to refrain from it with all the pushing that went on during childbirth. But no, he remembered, he and Thor had been been touching each other before he’d known about the doctor business. He’d let Thor pick him up. And he’d flirted with Thor in the first place. He hadn’t flirted with anyone since his injury. It hadn’t seemed to matter. With Thor it had felt imperative. It had been one of those rare moments when he’d recognized that he’d regret it for the rest of his life if he let an opportunity pass him by. And the most he’d been able to manage at the outset was asking where the peanut butter was. But it had been enough. The ice broken. Contact made.

 

When Thor was done fussing and they were settled under the blankets, Loki made a mournful face and asked what was to become of his chilly fingertips. Thor said they’d likely be lost to frostbite. Loki nodded solemnly, then grinned and stuffed both hands up the front of Thor’s shirt until his fingers were splayed over the top of Thor’s stomach.

“Do you have a fever?” Loki boggled.

“No, I’m always like this.”

“You should get that checked.”

“You think it’s serious?” Thor asked.

“Very. I think you might be a case of walking Lana Del Rey song.”

Thor thought a moment and then narrowed his eyes.

“ _Burning Desire_?” Thor tried, twisting his mouth in a faux-disapproving frown.

“I never said that,” Loki shrugged innocently, simultaneously spoiling the act with his blushing.

“I’m gonna set you on fire,” Thor said, scooting closer and wrapping his arms around Loki.

 

Loki giggled and let himself curl limply against Thor’s chest with his head tucked under Thor’s chin. There was something familiar about it. Almost fraternal. Thor’s comfortable teasing reminded Loki of his older brothers and how tender they’d been with him while pretending to promise murder for imaginary transgressions and tiny infractions. The punishment had always taken the form of pillow fights, wild chases through the house, and tickling. It was the one thing about home he truly missed and the loss that had hurt the most. They hadn’t called him after he’d come out either. Never surprised him with secret visits at school.

“Do you have any siblings?” Loki asked.

“No.”

“Did that get lonely?”

“Yes.”

 

Loki was surprised by how quickly and unequivocally that answer had come. His mental image of loneliness looked more or less like a self portrait. It seemed impossible that someone like Thor could suffer from it. Loki felt foolish for having judged the book by its cover and for having allowed his mind to lapse into the easy thoughtlessness of stereotypes.

 

Loki’s hands were finally warm. He pulled his right out from under Thor’s shirt but left his left one there to spy, already catching the faint uptick in Thor’s pulse at the movement. He traced the edge of Thor’s ear, with its downy dusting of translucent blond fuzz. Curled his fingers around the hard right angle of the jaw. Stroked the soft spot under the chin while he brushed his thumb across Thor’s cheek. Thor’s gaze kept darting up and down from Loki’s eyes to his lips until Loki nodded and smiled and tipped his head to keep their noses from bumping into each other. Thor’s kisses were soft, boneless things. Warm, gentle presses and nips focused mostly on Loki’s mouth, but wandering out onto his jaw and across his face with some frequency, sometimes pausing as Thor rubbed their cheeks together and they listened to the brushing whisper of stubble and skin. Loki half wanted to whisper _I won’t break,_ but even that much seemed too harsh a tease. “Please,” was all he managed. He felt Thor’s heart speed up under his hand. Felt Thor’s arms tighten around him. Heard a tiny whistle of air pass through Thor’s lips. Some hybrid of a whine, a whimper, and a sigh, borne on a steamy gust of air from Thor’s lungs. And then it was Thor’s turn to nod while Loki stared at his mouth. With each kiss, one of Thor’s lips slid into Loki’s mouth, reaching as it gripped one of Loki’s lips, sometimes sliding across them, sometimes tugging them lightly. Thor’s fingers were in Loki’s hair, guiding his head gently, finally pressing it forward so that the only way Loki could fit into the space Thor had allotted him was by stretching his jaw wide around Thor’s own. Loki heard himself whine when Thor licked into his mouth. He whined again when Thor sucked on his tongue. His fingers scrabbled for purchase on Thor’s neck and in the fabric of his shirt. He had turned his hand around inside Thor’s clothes to grab a fistful of cotton and was trying to tug it closer, though their bodies were nearly flush.

 

When the undersides of their tongues and the muscles in their jaws began to ache with all the stretching, Thor kissed Loki’s face again, softly like before, but dipping down to his jaw more often and then under it until Loki tipped his head back and sobbed while Thor sucked bruises onto his skin and worried his Adam’s apple with the edges of his teeth.

“We should,” Thor rasped, then took a few slow breaths and cleared his throat before trying again. “We should rearrange ourselves,” he said, and dipped his head to indicate where.

“Oh, right,” Loki remembered, and bent forward to look down at the tented fronts of their jeans. “I can’t actually tell if this will be better,” Loki huffed, reaching into his boxers to straighten out his cock.

“Just leave your jeans undone,” Thor shrugged. “We’ve got the blanket over us and the park is empty. I was going to leave mine open, if you don’t mind.”

“No, not at all. That’d probably be best.”

 

With their bodies situated, they pulled each other close again and caught their breath, lazily finger-combing each other’s hair and humming into their kisses. Mostly pecks on the lips and cheeks until their breaths were slow and deep and their minds had sobered from the haze of want and need they’d been plunging through. Now everything was crystalline again. They caught the bright daylight dyeing their eyes more blue. Heard the flutter of wings above them in the trees. The rustle of leaves falling, so like crumpled paper. Saw the want waiting on each other’s parted lips. The joy in cheeks that were tight with helpless smiles.

 

They nipped and nuzzled their way back into the frantic, panting blur they’d been in before, then cursed and laughed in unison when Loki’s alarm went off.

“I have to go to the bathroom again,” Loki sighed, then glanced down at his still-tented boxers and swore again. “We’ll have to talk about golf.”

“Eeegh, no,” Thor shook his head. “We want our dicks to go back to sleep, not pack their bags and leave.”

“I can see them now,” Loki said dreamily. “Marching off through the tall grass… little rucksacks full of clean underpants and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches slung over their shoulders.”

 

Loki got his golden hour photos, his sunset, and his dusk. On the drive home, he floated in that warm intoxication that only came on when the right proportions of excitement, exhaustion, and attraction were flowing through his veins. Thor brought all the cameras back upstairs and asked if he could use the bathroom. Loki said of course, then sat drumming his fingers and listening for the door to open. It hadn’t occurred to him that Thor would need to use it. The bathroom was clean and organized, but it left nothing to the imagination. Loki kept reminding himself that Thor was a doctor. He would understand. There was nothing truly surprising in there. There was also nothing you’d want your new boyfriend to see. Or was it just a date? Loki wondered if he and Thor were supposed to agree on vocabulary or if the words were synonymous or--

“Thank you,” Thor sighed, shutting the light off behind him.

“You’re welcome,” Loki said, then wrinkled up his face in a wince.

“What’s wrong?”

“Can I ask you an awkward question?”

“Sure,” Thor smiled.

“Does it smell weird in here? By which I mean... does it smell like a bathroom?”

“No it smells nice. Like you. I keep wanting to ask what you’re wearing.”

“Old Spice.”

“No, I caught that, but there’s something else, too. Must just be your skin.”

“I doubt that.”

“It’s actually stronger in the bathroom,” Thor said. “I thought maybe you were putting on cologne when you were in there in the mornings.”

“No, I don’t wear anything. _Oh_ ,” Loki groaned, finally seeing the obvious. “It’s the soap. There’s some gift shoppy stuff in the front of the store where I work. Journals, bags, candles, and soaps. I bought some when it went on clearance. Figured I’d save myself a trip to the store.”

 

Loki couldn’t help grinning and reaching up to weave his fingers through Thor’s hair when Thor came over and bent down to kiss him. They were both breathing with the slow puffs that preceded sleep, leaning their foreheads together heavily and closing their eyes.

“I wish I could ask you to stay tonight,” Loki whispered, his face crumpling in frustration. “But I think I still need a little privacy.”

“I know. It’s early,” Thor soothed, kissing him long and soft on the lips, not to change his mind but to console him. “Can I see you again?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“Is dinner tomorrow too soon?” Loki asked, eyes wide, waiting.

“Not at all. Anything you’re craving?”

“Would you be willing to carry out Lebanese and come here?”

“Definitely.”

“If we both have garlic breath it’s like neither of us has it, right?”

“Correct,” Thor nodded, and kissed the top of Loki’s head.

Thor opened his mouth to speak, his lips and tongue poised to form an _I,_ then remembered there are things you don’t say when it’s only your second date.

“Thank you for everything today,” Thor said instead.

Loki laughed.

“Thank _you_. You did all the work.”

“Pleasure,” Thor corrected, and kissed Loki again and said goodnight.

 

Though tired, Thor couldn’t hold still when he got home, walking through his house, taking measure of everything. Restless, wanting to fix things, but helpless to mend them.

 

No elevator.

Seeing Loki take the stairs had almost killed him. Knowing that Loki had do it twice every time he left his apartment--and that he had likely been doing so for years--made it worse. So much time eaten up. Good exercise, perhaps, and maybe it maintained some bone density, but it was dangerous.

Loki had to make small, frequent grocery trips because, without a car, he had to carry everything out of the store in his lap, and then carry it upstairs.

His toilet was not up to ADA standards and was likely too small. Loki had swapped out the hard plastic for a padded seat, paying out of his own pocket for something that wasn’t properly provided by his building.

There was a container of Enemeez mini enemas on a shelf above the toilet tank. Insanely expensive, especially for how frequently they had to be used. Loki had to pay to void his bowels. More than two bucks a pop. And that didn’t count the cost of gloves, lube, wipes, and toilet paper.

Loki’s catheters--the good ones that reduced the risk of infection, much to Thor’s relief--were only covered by Medicare if you’d had two bladder infections and received a prescription for them from your doctor. Bladder infections got bad fast, and you likely didn’t notice them until they were advanced if you couldn’t feel the pain they caused. The thought of Loki suffering through one was enough to turn Thor’s stomach.

There was a bowl on the counter in Loki’s bathroom to let him brush his teeth because the cabinets under the sink meant he couldn’t get close to it with his wheelchair. He could probably only just barely reach to wash his hands.

There were no grab bars installed anywhere, probably to avoid breaking the lease. It would be difficult and dangerous to transfer on and off of the toilet and in and out of the bath without them. Instead, there were two padded benches in the bathroom, one in the tub and one beside it, for Loki to use when he was getting in and out and while he was bathing.

The showerhead was not detachable and was high up out of Loki’s reach. The pitcher in the bathtub made Thor suspect that Loki did much of his washing by pouring water from the lower faucet onto himself.

It was much the same story in the kitchen.

Cabinets blocked the sink.

The built in microwave was up too high to be useful, so Loki had been forced to buy his own and buy a low cart to put it on.

The stove was too high for Loki to be able to see inside any pot that was on it, so he had a hotplate on the cart with the microwave.

The doorways in Loki’s unit were all narrow and had been scuffed by the wheels of his chair. He might not get his security deposit back when he moved out.

There was a small washing machine in Loki’s kitchen. He’d have to use it often, taking time to do laundry probably every other day, or else doing it all day in a marathon. Thor wasn’t sure if it was because there were no washers and dryers in Loki’s building, or if it was because they were top-loading and therefore out of Loki’s reach. Even if there were front-loading washers and dryers, it would likely be exhausting to carry a full load of laundry up and down the stairs, and, if they were coin operated, it would be expensive to do small loads.

 

Thor looked around his own home and realized it was little better. It was a ranch, so that was something, but it was still raised three steps off the ground and there weren’t any ramps. The washer and dryer were front loading, but they were downstairs, and there was no elevator to the basement. Thor’s house had slightly wider doors and halls than those in Loki’s apartment, but nothing in the kitchen or bathroom was at the right height. The mirrors and light switches were all high and the electrical outlets were low. The toilet seats weren’t padded and the units weren’t elongated models. The shower was, at least, open. No lip at the bottom. Just a glass divider for one wall, and no door to worry about. The showerhead wasn’t detachable, however, and there were no grab bars or cushioned benches.

 

Loki’s body had no padding. The furniture had to be padded on his behalf. His legs were thin. They’d been narrow in Thor’s hands when he’d picked Loki up. Thor found it infuriating. It was, to a degree, preventable with electrical stimulation of the muscles. Thor saw a small electrical stimulation unit next to Loki’s couch, but that would take ages to use and Thor was fairly certain Loki didn’t have that kind of time at his disposal each day. Thor knew there were bigger machines, like gym equipment. Cycles with arrays of electrodes and preset workout programs that stimulated your legs and made you pedal. Thor googled them. A used unit was ten grand, and then you had to get it into your home somehow. A new one was seventeen thousand dollars. Thor suspected insurance didn’t cover it. Which was absurd. Healthy circulation was vital. Maintaining muscle mass provided padding over bones and protected against pressure ulcers. And if successful stem cell therapies or other treatments became available for SCI, they wouldn’t be any use on legs that had atrophied. Thor hadn’t seen a standing wheelchair anywhere in Loki’s apartment either. Another means of improving circulation and maintaining bone density. They also allowed people to reach things that were up high on their own, providing independence.

 

Thor paced through the house, looking things up on his phone until two in the morning. He had to cut himself short when he realized he couldn’t do anything about his thousand worries. He took a shower to calm himself down but ended up turning in circles, wondering what the best positions for grab bars and benches would be. When he came out, he stared at his mattress and ended up on his phone again. Water beds were good for avoiding pressure sores, but they were very difficult to get in and out of. Sleep Number air mattresses were recommended. The firmness could be increased for getting in and out of bed and getting dressed, and decreased to reduce pressure against bony prominences during sleep.

 

Thor picked up fattoush, falafel, hummus, bread, and grape leaves on his way over to Loki’s after work the next day. The ceaseless grin on Loki’s face was contagious. Thor found it slightly difficult to eat with his lips and cheeks taut from smiling throughout dinner.

“How’d you get to be so weird?” Loki asked, and Thor’s eyebrows flew up.

“What’s so weird about me?” Thor laughed. “I’m weird like a loaf of Wonder Bread.”

“I don’t know,” Loki shrugged, still smiling, licking oil from a grape leaf off his fingertips. “It’s what you don’t do as much as what you do. I’ve had three people say to me, ‘Drunk driving?’ Not ‘drunk driv _er_?’ as in, was I hit by a drunk driver, but ‘drunk driv _ing’_ as in, was I driving drunk and crashed my car and broke my back and got my comeuppance.”

“Jesus. Like you’re a fucking cautionary tale.”

“Exactly. I wish I could literally beat a sense of their own fragility into them. I want to tell them, ‘No, asshole, I was walking to get a bagel with lox--which I will replay in my mind and regret for the rest of my life--and a cyclist, who should have been on the road but instead broke the law and rode on the sidewalk, hit me, and I fell on top of a fire hydrant.’ I remember lying on the ground thinking _wow, I must have really bumped my head, I’m so uncoordinated. Why can’t I get up?_ And then, in the hospital, telling myself it was just some swelling and bruising. I’d be fine in a week. I’d staked my livelihood on this stupid body so I sure as hell had better be able to dance again.”

“Ballet student,” Thor guessed.

“Yep. I’m still paying off loan debt for classes I couldn’t attend. I’ve spent about a year’s worth of time wishing I’d been walking just one step slower that day, so the hydrant would have sailed through my legs.”

Thor nodded.

“One step faster and you might have broken your neck and drowned in air on the sidewalk,” Thor said.

“There are days I wish for that too,” Loki admitted quietly. “Days I wish I’d just lost my legs altogether so I wouldn’t have to haul them around and live in constant fear of getting pressure sores on my heels.”

Thor nodded again.

“But I have a feeling,” Loki went on, “that your weird ass would have asked me out in that case too.”

“Yep,” Thor said.

“People don’t look at me anymore,” Loki shook his head. “Not like I’m a person. And certainly not a dateable one. I don’t get the easygoing smile and casual head-nod. Now they look with a self-congratulatory sad-smile, like I’m supposed to be grateful for their pity and they’re God’s Fucking Gift for doling it out to me. Or they look away as fast as they can and hope I didn’t notice, which I did. Or they just stare, slack-jawed, like I’m a freak. Everyone but you… the actual freak in sheep’s clothing. Weird, like I said. How’d it go today with your fave?”

Thor took a slow breath, sighed it out, and tried again.

“She was expecting a postpartum check up... and this _was_ a postpartum check up, but _god_. I was supposed to be asking about nursing and sleeping and pooping and crying. Instead it was just the two of us sobbing, then laughing at ourselves for sobbing, then laughing at each other, then trying to talk, then sobbing all over again.”

“I don't know how people put up with life,” Loki said.

“Yeah,” Thor agreed. “Feels like they'd just throw in the towel and check out after something like that.”

“It would be fair.”

“Good thing life isn't fair,” Thor winked.

 

On the sofa after dinner they sat side by side, twisted at the waist so they were face to face, trading garlic kisses with parsley in their teeth. Loki distracted Thor by sucking on his neck while he undid all the buttons on his shirt. Thor moaned loudly with pleasant shock when Loki ran his hands unhindered up the bare skin of his flanks and around to his back, then down to the base of his spine. Loki pressed long kisses to Thor’s face and neck, then pivoted into his chair, pulled up in front of Thor, and locked the wheels.

“Scoot forward,” Loki said, tugging at the backs of Thor’s knees. Thor slid down the couch until he was lying on the seat with just his head propped up by the back cushions and his legs spread wide around Loki’s chair.

 

Loki leaned forward to tease Thor’s nipples. He stroked the smooth skin of his stomach and traced the muscles over his ribs. Tickled Thor’s narrow waist and watched his belly flex and roll between his digging fingers. He ran his fingertips along the edges of the abdominals. Dragged his hands down the outsides of Thor’s legs, onto his knees, and back up his inner thighs. He watched Thor’s cock bob hopefully beneath his clothes as he skimmed past it, running his hands off to the sides when he got to Thor’s crotch, settling his palms on the peaks of his hips.

“Can these come off?” Loki asked, curling his fingers over Thor’s waistband and tugging lightly.

Thor nodded and Loki carefully undid the button and zipper. Thor picked up his legs, put them together, and bent them so that Loki could slide his pants off, then felt a bit shy about spreading his legs in Loki’s face. Loki grabbed Thor’s ankles and spread them for him, setting Thor’s feet on the tops of his wheels. “Scoot forward a little for me,” Loki coaxed, urging Thor closer with his hands on Thor’s hips. “In my lap if you can.”

Thor shifted until his shoulders were on the sofa and his butt was resting on Loki’s knees. He put his arms behind his neck to hold his head up, desperate to see.

 

Loki was looking him over with his eyes and his fingertips, touching each place as he saw it, committing its texture to memory, learning the ways it made Thor sigh and twitch. When he licked the head of Thor’s cock, Thor’s belly flattened and sank three inches as he gasped. Loki glanced up and found that Thor was looking back at him, lips parted, eyebrows up in the center, gaze hungry and almost stunned. Loki smiled and licked him again. It made Thor’s lashes flutter in a way that was possibly the loveliest thing Loki had ever seen. And Loki had caught the little bead of fluid that had seeped from Thor’s prick. It slicked his tongue with sticky salt that made his mouth water for more.

 

Thor’s soft _oh_ when Loki slid his mouth down to the base of his cock was a sound Loki hoped to hold fresh in his mind for the rest of his life. The noise acquired a companion with the quiet, broken _ah_ Thor made when Loki left his mouth at the base and rested, gently sucking, breathing in the musk of Thor’s fur and skin. When Loki began to rise and fall, Thor cursed and laughed at himself and warned he was already close. Loki pulled off with a wet pop, licked his hand, and wrung Thor’s cock with his fist, twisting gently with each upstroke, watching Thor’s balls rise and then staring at the slit until Thor sobbed and a pulsing stream of come spilled out of him, painting his belly and chest.

 

Loki gently kissed Thor’s cock, hips, and thighs, then reached up and swiped his fingers through the drops of semen that spattered Thor’s skin. He licked them clean and reached for seconds. Thor scooted back onto the sofa to take his weight off of Loki’s legs, then sat up. Loki wiped more come off Thor’s nipple and went to put it in his mouth, but Thor caught him by the wrist and sucked his fingers, slowly drawing them into his mouth, lapping them with his tongue, worrying the sensitive skin between them, pouting his lips into a full pucker as he pulled off and hoping the visual was a good one. Gauging by the way Loki was gaping, Thor suspected success.

“Nice _Risky Business_ cosplay,” Loki teased, and Thor doubled over laughing, resting his head on Loki’s shoulder and nuzzling his neck.

“What would you like?” Thor asked.

“I can’t come,” Loki said softly, shaking his head. “I get hard like this when I’m turned on. The chemistry works on the blood vessels, but I can’t feel it. I don’t want to waste your time.”

“Nothing you want could ever be a waste of my time.”

Loki blinked rapidly for a few seconds, took a shaky breath, and nodded.

“Mind moving to my bed?”

 

They settled down with the blankets and pillows. Thor was still giddy with sex and Loki wanted to let him enjoy the descent, so they curled toward each other, kissing and dovetailing their fingers until Thor’s head was clear.

 

Loki’s skin was pale everywhere below his neck. Years out of the sun. Thor wished for some private place where they could sunbathe together, slathering on SPF and making vitamin D. Sweating and reading paperbacks while they sipped lemonade and iced tea. He kissed and tasted every inch of Loki’s skin, conscious of the borders where his body ceased to respond, but unwilling to confine his kisses to the sentient spots. All of Loki’s body was lovely and well and alive. Smooth and soft. Scented with soap and something milky that was entirely Loki. Thor parted Loki’s legs carefully so that he could kneel between them, then reached to rub Loki’s hips.

“Oh, that’s good,” Loki sighed. “I can feel that.”

Thor could feel the muscles flexing as he kneaded them with the heels of his palms.

 

Loki’s cock was soft when Thor got there, but gradually bobbed up as Thor kissed, licked, and sucked it. Loki looked on, unblinking, the entire time. Thor was careful not to bend Loki’s cock the wrong way or graze it with his teeth. Conscious of the visual side of things, looking up often with a smile in his eyes, turning his head to the sides so that Loki got to see his mouth from more than one angle. The skin was smoother and thinner than lips. It made Thor think of peonies and orchid petals. He’d never been flexible enough to get a good look at his own body. Paid more attention to the way it felt in his hand. Loki’s cock was hot and sticky with Thor’s spit. Thor’s mouth wouldn’t stop watering. He was embarrassed when he stretched his jaw wide to swallow Loki down and a stream of saliva spilled from his lips and dripped down the side of Loki’s prick. But the sound Loki made at the sight was one of approval, so Thor skipped an apology and kept moving, rising and falling, humming when Loki’s fingers threaded through his hair. He pulled off for a moment, took Loki’s right hand, and wrapped it around Loki’s cock so that his fingers went into Thor’s mouth with it. Loki could feel the wet heat and the suck and the velvet brush of tongue against his knuckles.

 

Thor moved to kiss Loki’s belly and Loki arched, so Thor nipped and kissed his way up to Loki’s breast, earning more arches and some cries along the way. Based on the responses so far, Thor suspected there was a triangular region on Loki’s body, from the nipples to the mouth that was the most sensitive and gave Loki the most pleasure. Thor opted to be a tease and moved away to Loki’s wrists, kissing the thin skin over the veins on the inside, following the vessels up to the crooks of Loki’s arms, sucking lightly at first, then firmly, leaving hot, red bruises that he then soothed with strokes of his tongue. Loki moaned when Thor kissed all around his armpits. Thor made a mental note to give them a good licking some time after Loki got out of the shower, when he wouldn’t get a mouthful of deodorant.

 

When Thor got his lips around Loki’s left nipple, Loki held Thor’s head there, leaving him to lick and suck until Loki took a deep, slow breath and hummed it out again.

“Can you stay for a nap?” Loki asked.

Thor nodded and they curled up like spoons.

 

Every evening and weekend Thor wasn’t on call, he and Loki spent together. Shopping, kissing, going to movies, and taking photos. Loki met Thor’s parents, who monopolized him. Odin spirited him away to his den and his darkroom; Frigga had him more or less in her lap on the sofa, braiding his hair as she taught him how to knit scarves and blankets.

 

In October, Loki’s friends hosted a Halloween party. He went as Sarah and Thor was Jareth. No one could tear their eyes off of Thor’s crotch, which made the evening a lot like an actual viewing of _Labyrinth_. While Thor was off getting their drinks, Jeff asked Loki who his guest was. When Loki replied that Thor was his boyfriend, Jeff said, “Really? That’s nice of him,” and then made a beeline for Thor, helping himself to the drink in Thor’s right hand and then offering his own right hand to shake.

 

Loki held his breath and watched, trying to ignore the tremor in his fingers, uncertain if it was terror or rage, feeling impotent to act on it either way. He saw Thor blink rapidly and heard him say, “Seriously?” Then Thor wrinkled his nose and curled his lip over his teeth, shook his head in disgusted disbelief, and went back to the bar to get another drink.

“Why are people so gross?” Thor asked, handing Loki a Dark and Stormy.

“I don’t know,” Loki said, ducking his head to hide his hopeless, gloating grin. “Should we defect to another species?”

“Yes.”

“What should we be?”

“Ummmm… house cats,” Thor decided. “Preferably as permanent kittens. We’d just lie around making pathetic, adorable sounds, sleeping a lot, and living on dairy.”

“Sign me up,” Loki laughed.

 

Thor had ramps installed and got a Sleep Number mattress, padded toilet seats, a shower bench, and a detachable shower head with an extra-long hose, but he lived outside the city, which meant more time spent commuting, so most often he packed a bag and spent the weeknights at Loki’s place. He wanted to make improvements to Loki’s apartment, but Loki always shot him down, noting that installing hardware would break the lease and cost him his security deposit for sure.

 

On weekends they usually stayed at Thor's. He did Loki's laundry and when it was dry Loki stretched out on the bed and Thor dumped the basket of hot clothes onto him. After that, Loki napped while Thor folded everything.

 

Their favorite grocery store was inescapably busy in the week leading up to Thanksgiving. Thor and Loki were shopping for cranberry sauce ingredients when a tall woman with dyed black hair, a quilted patent-leather Chanel bag, nails like claws, and a face full of Botox grabbed the handles of Loki’s wheelchair and rolled him two feet forward so that she could open a cooler. Loki was speechless. Thor was not.

“Did that human dumpster fire just literally push you aside so she could get to the fucking orange juice ten seconds faster?” Thor asked, loudly enough that said dumpster fire heard him and glared over her shoulder as she stalked away.

In the parking lot afterward, Thor stopped his car in the middle of the lane as they were leaving.

“Forget something?” Loki asked.

“Nope,” Thor said, and rolled down his window.

Loki looked and saw the dumpster fire in her car, waiting to back out. There were cars in front of her and on both sides. Thor had her parked in.

“Oooh, I love this song,” Loki cooed, cranking the stereo.

“Party on, Wayne,” Thor said.

“Party on, Garth,” Loki smiled, and they headbanged to the whole of _Immigrant Song_ while the dumpster fire leaned out her window and screamed at them.

 

On December first, Loki got a flat tire. He had a patch kit handy, but that was only a temporary fix. He had needed new tires for a while, but he’d been too busy to bother with it. Medicare covered the basic tire model for his chair, but that tire was shit. Heavy and exhausting, and quickly worn out. So Loki’s new tires would have to come out of his pocket. But his pockets were empty. Because he was in the city, his disability payments didn’t stretch far. They barely covered rent, utilities, and food, leaving him to pay for his student loans, bus fare, entertainment, dietary supplements, clothes, the thousand medical supplies that weren’t covered by insurance, and home furnishings on his own. His rent had been deducted from his bank account that day, and the remaining balance was abysmally low. Ordinarily, his job at the bookstore paid enough to cover emergencies, but this month Loki was short. He read through his statements to see why, wondering if there’d been some mistake.

 

Dozens of little purchases had added up.

New sheets, because his flannel ones were old and threadbare, with all their fluffy nap worn away, and he wanted his bed to be nice now that someone was sharing it.

Yet another new jacket because the sleeves had worn through on his last one from brushing against his tires.

New pillows for when Thor slept over.

New towels, because the ones he had were getting dingy and ragged and Thor showered at his place most mornings.

A professional haircut for the first time in years, because he didn’t feel like cleaning up the mess after doing it himself and he wanted it to look good.

Coffees, lunches, and dinners were scattered everywhere, always more expensive than it felt like they should be, but all the charges were accurate.

The heating bill was high from cold weather, which he’d forgotten about.

His printer was out of ink, which was pricey, and he'd been too busy lately to edit photos anyway, so there was nothing to send to the gallery in the hope of a sale.

 

There was no way around it.

 

Thor was on call that weekend, so he worked from six-thirty Saturday morning to five-thirty Monday afternoon. Loki said he had plans that night, so Thor went home to do chores and take a nap, then headed over to Loki’s place near midnight and they went straight to sleep.

 

On Tuesday night it was the same.

“Loki,” Thor whispered, shaking him gently at two am.

“Hmm?” Loki hummed, not opening his eyes.

“Your alarm is going off. You need to go to the bathroom.”

Loki whined but still didn’t fully wake up.

“Lo,” Thor said again, slightly louder, though he hated to speak forcefully, fearful of coming off as overbearing or condescending.

“Mmm.”

“You okay?”

“Jusss tired,” Loki slurred, and Thor helped him sit up and transfer into his chair.

 

On Wednesday Loki said he had plans with Pepper, so Thor might as well stay home and spare himself the interruption of driving over late at night. They’d spent every spare minute together since they’d met, so Thor supposed that wasn’t an unreasonable recommendation. At home, alone in his own bed for the first time in months, he lay awake watching the moon crawl past his window until his alarm went off for work.

 

Thursday was a repeat of Wednesday, but Loki said he was having dinner with Natasha. Thor rolled back and forth in bed all night, uncomfortable no matter what his position, opening his eyes every few minutes to catch the glowing red numbers on his alarm clock tallying lost sleep and time away from Loki.

 

On Friday Thor called Loki when he got off work and asked if he could bring mutter paneer and naan over for dinner. The other end of the line was quiet for so long Thor thought the call had been dropped.

“Lo? You there?”

“I can’t,” Loki breathed.

“Feeling okay?”

“No, Thor I can’t. I can’t do this anymore. It’s just… impossible. I have to stop. I’m so sorry.”

Loki hung up before Thor could get a word in.

 

Thor remembered crying when the phone call had come from his grandmother saying his grandfather was dead. Odin had answered, dropped his own head and wept at the news, then pulled himself together just enough that he could tell Thor. The day had been hot, but Thor had wrapped himself up in a blanket anyway. It had been pink, and had tinted all the light that came through the cotton. Thor had lain on his side on the living room floor, hidden in a rosy cocoon, sobbing so hard he couldn’t properly breathe. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t stop until he passed out, exhausted. He’d done nearly the same thing when he'd found Mule dead on the bed at his feet, her chin resting on his ankle, same as ever. He’d pulled the sheets over his face to keep the world at bay and sealed himself up with his grief.

 

Thor didn’t make it back to his bed to get a blanket this time, merely sank to the kitchen tiles, folded his arms over his head, put his face between his knees, and wept until his stomach cramped up. He tipped over onto his side to try to make himself breathe and relax, but he was in a panic. Running through everything he’d done, wondering where he’d gone wrong. Wondering if any argument would work. If Loki had ever felt anything for him. If Loki had been busy lately because he’d met someone else.

 

Everyone Thor had fallen in love with had left him for someone else. It had happened so consistently he wondered why he let himself think it would be different this time. Sif had left him for Hogun. Stephanie had left him for James. Darcy had left him for Ian. Jane had left him for Darcy. Kyra had left him for Bruce. He wondered what was wrong with him. What they’d been so eager to escape from. Or if he was just dull. Or too often absent with work. Whatever it was, the bottom-line was that he wasn’t worth keeping.  

 

The next morning Thor set the shower head down on the seat cushion out of habit when he was finished with it. When he caught that he’d done it, he couldn’t bring himself to put it high up in the cradle.   

 

Two weeks later, someone knocked on Thor’s door at eleven on Saturday morning. Thor felt a jolt of adrenaline course through him and his pulse sped up. When he answered it, there was a tall man with old hair and a young face looking back at him. Thor had to fight back the tears that gathered in his eyes.

“Thor Solheim?” the man asked.

“Yes.”

“I have a few questions for you.”

“You don’t look like a cop,” Thor noted, looking the man over and glancing over at the plain sedan in his driveway.

“I’m not,” the man said, and offered his hand. “Stephen Strange.”

Thor nodded, shook his hand, and invited him in.

“So you’re the owner of Sanctum Sanctorum Used Books,” Thor said. “Never saw you when I went in to pick him up from work.”

“I’m usually in the back.”

“Anything to drink? Water? Tea?” Thor asked.

“Water would be great, thanks.”

They sat at the kitchen table, rolling their glasses in their hands, sizing each other up. Thor did not shrink from eye contact the way so many people did. He was blinking often, but Strange suspected that was related to how tired and sore his eyes appeared to be.

“Did you hurt him?” Strange asked, finally, and Thor sighed.

“I must have done something he didn’t like. Or _been_. He broke up with me two weeks ago.”

Strange frowned at this, sank back in his chair, and set down his glass.

“Did he say I dumped him?” Thor asked.

“No… he’s just been so miserable I figured he was the one who got dumped. I don’t think he’s slept in weeks. He certainly hasn’t smiled.”

“He’s still tired?”

“He’s been taking naps during his lunch, which is something he’s never done before,” Strange nodded. “Normally he’s cracking jokes and chatting up the customers. Making recommendations. But lately he’s hardly said a word. His eyes are about as red as yours… and his face is about as cheerful.”

“I figured he was seeing someone else,” Thor murmured. “Thought he’d be happy.”

“When he was with you he was happy. Giddy. Like a cartoon. If he’s seeing someone now, he isn’t enjoying it.”

Thor shook his head, spread his hands, and gave a small shrug.

“I would have sworn we were doing well. Better than well... but I’ve been wrong about that sort of thing so many times before…”

Strange gave him a tight, sympathetic smile, then looked around the house while he ran a heavily scarred finger along the wet rim of his glass, making it hum.

“Beautiful home.”

“Thank you,” Thor said, blinking and faintly frowning at the change of subject.

“So much room. Fenced in yard. You two should get a dog.”

Thor’s lips were parted, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to tell a stranger that a dog had already crossed his mind--along with a hundred other lovely things--or to remind him that there was no longer a _we_ , which he knew. It was the reason for his visit. Thor decided Strange was an apt name for the man.  

“Loki said you were a doctor, but he didn’t say what sort.”

“OB-GYN.”

“Ah,” Strange said. “So your face is the first thing people see when they come into the world.”

Thor smiled and gave a faint, concession of a nod. “False advertising,” Strange winked, then amended, “for most of us, anyway.”

 

When Strange went to the foyer, Thor followed at a leisurely pace and some distance, not wanting to rush the man out, still wishing for answers that probably neither of them had.

“You were the only part of his life he talked about that wasn’t something he read in a book,” Stephen told him,” reaching for the door. “Did he talk to you?”

“Yes.”

“Well, go make him talk about this.”

 

Thor thanked his unexpected guest for his trouble and time and said goodbye, then texted Loki and stared at his phone for five minutes straight.

 

He made lunch to distract himself. Pecked at it. Boxed it up to take to work. An hour later there was still no response, so he got bundled up in his hat, coat, and boots and drove to Loki’s apartment. He was irritated to find that the front walk hadn’t been shoveled and that Loki had been forced to push through slush and over ice to get to the bus stop. Thor could see one set of tire tracks in the snow that had fallen last night, so he knew Loki had gone out. He rang the doorbell three times anyway and, as expected, got no answer.

 

By Sunday afternoon, Thor still hadn’t received a response to his text asking Loki if they could meet and talk, so he went back to Loki’s building again and rang the bell. The sidewalk had been shoveled and salted, so there was no way to tell if or when Loki had come and gone.

 

Strange was at the counter when Thor came into the store on Monday during his lunch break. The dusty vanillic scent of old books was thick in the air. Below it, lingering around the cash register, was the combined scent of cedar soap, shampoo, and Loki’s skin that was slowly fading from the pillows on Thor’s bed.

“He’s asleep in the back room,” Strange said, then handed Thor a key and pointed to a door.

 

Thor found Loki backed up against a wall so that there was something behind him to hold up his head as he slept.

“Lo?” Thor said softly, pulling up a step stool and sitting down at Loki’s feet.

“Hmm?” Loki said, then blinked his eyes open, saw Thor, squeezed them shut again, and shook his head while he broke down.

Thor took Loki’s hands and held them. He felt his heart slow down when each squeeze and brush of fingers was reciprocated.

“What’s going on?” Thor asked, after Loki’s sobs had subsided and his breathing had evened out.

“I just don’t have any time.”

“I know, but why? What happened? Have you been sick?”

“No, I’ve been working.”

“Oh. On photography?”

“No, that’s too unpredictable. I had to get another job,” Loki said, and pulled his lips between his teeth to stop their quivering.

“ _Oh_ ,” Thor breathed, and sat in silence a moment, hating himself for thinking it had all been about him.

“Spent too much money over the last few months. Then got a flat tire. Down to thirty-three bucks in my bank account.”

“Where are you working?” Thor asked, and Loki shut his eyes and turned his head away.

“I needed something fast, located on a busy bus route,” he began. “The only thing I could get with no wait was working as a greeter at Walmart.”

Thor nodded, then frowned.

“In front of the doors all day?”

“I only have long shifts on the weekend. It’s just evenings during weekdays.”

“But it’s been in the teens and twenties,” Thor said. “You’ve been sitting by an open door for hours on end in this weather?”

“The doors aren’t open the entire time.”

“But it’s still cold,” Thor said, and Loki shrugged.  “And it’s so much time on your butt.”

“I know, but I need the money.”  

“We need to go over there. If I have to, I’ll play the doctor card so they won’t be annoying about you not giving two weeks’ notice. You have to quit.”

“Thor, I can’t. You’re not hearing me. I _need_ the paycheck.”

“You’ll be fine.”

“How?” Loki asked, eyes wide and face strained.

“You quit at Walmart,” Thor began, then added, “and burn it down,” to win a weak smile from Loki’s lips. “And after that, there are options. First things first, you let me write you a check and we go deposit it so we don’t have to worry about any dings to your credit score. You could also just keep letting me do that for the rest of my life if that worked for you.”

Loki huffed and then blinked for a moment.

“Are those my only options,” he nudged.

“No,” Thor said, and pumped Loki’s hands, then felt them pump back, like some strange heart beating back and forth between them, freshening his blood to help him forge on. “You could also move in with me,” Thor said. “Help me with some remodeling decisions. Quit both jobs, if you wanted. But if you wanted to stay here at the bookstore, we could get my other car set up with digital controls so you could drive it.”

“And what would happen when you got tired of me?” Loki murmured, eyes welling up again.

“I wouldn’t,” Thor said. “But you might get tired of me. In that case, you’d want to protect yourself. It would probably be best if we went to the courthouse sometime soon. Brought a couple witnesses along. I know these two retirees who like you a lot. They’d want to be there. We’d repeat some vows. Sign a contract--you’d get my health insurance, which is so good it’s kind of embarrassing. If you got fed up with me the next day, you could get out of it all, and then you’d get half my assets. If you could put up with my bullshit for ten years, you’d be eligible for half my assets plus half my social security, so you’d be pretty well set up.”

Loki snorted in the middle of a sob.

“And what if I never threw in the towel?” Loki whispered. He was crying, but grinning, so Thor kept going.

“Well, in that case, you’d get everything, and we wouldn’t have to drive back and forth sharing custody of the dog.”

“ _Dogs_ ,” Loki amended.

“Dogs,” Thor agreed.

“Possibly also cats, if the dogs are willing to cooperate.”

“Possible-cats,” Thor nodded, smiling and spattering their hands with tears. “ _Are_?” Thor asked, cautiously looking up, wondering if Loki was only playing along. Telling a story. Soothing their nerves after weeks of tension.

“ _Are_ ,” Loki confirmed. “Definitely _dogs_ , plural. And the rest,” Loki choked, attempting a faux-jaded, dismissive wave of his hand, but doubling over in the middle of it and planting his forehead on Thor’s shoulder.

“Did I just trick you into marrying me with the promise of dogs?” Thor asked.

“I thought I was tricking _you_ with dogs,” Loki sniffled.

“Oh. _Were you_?” Thor croaked, teasing. His throat was so tight his voice was almost gone. “Shit, now I’m not sure. Regardless, can you think of a better reason to get married?”

“Better than dogs?” Loki scoffed. “No, there’s nothing better than dogs. Except possibly possible-cats.”

 

Loki stayed on at the bookstore with Strange through Christmas eve, not wanting to abandon him during the busiest season. He told Stephen to call him if he ever needed help on short notice after that.

 

Thor spent most of Christmas day stretched out on his back on his parents’ living room sofa; Loki spent it stretched out on Thor’s front. They listened to _December_ while the logs in the fireplace hissed and popped and delivered what Thor promised was a delicious heat to their toes.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> please don't comment or repost.


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